by Linda Broday
All was well until they stepped inside the door and a large black spider dropped onto Nora’s arm. She shrieked and flailed, slinging her arms and stomping, until Jack knocked it off.
“I hate spiders.”
“Hurry and let’s get out of here.” Jack glanced around, thinking how they’d felt so lucky a few weeks ago to be out of the cold air. And then finding Willow and the fight to save her.
Nora knelt on the floor and Jack pried up the board. “Do you think there are snakes under there?”
It was a clear possibility, but he wouldn’t tell her that. “No. Too early.”
She reached into the narrow space and patted around. Her face froze. “I can’t find it.”
“Keep looking. Maybe an animal pushed it farther back.”
She leaned into the opening, stretching, concentrating. Finally, she pulled her arm out. Her face was ashen. “It’s not here.”
“You’re sure this is where you hid it?”
“Positive. This was the only loose board, here by the table.”
Had they come all this way for nothing?
Jack lifted her up. “Let me look. My arm is longer.” He lay down and reached as far as he could until a wooden obstruction stopped him. His fingertips brushed what seemed like paper. “I think I have it.”
He stretched farther into the space and got hold of the book. Relief filled him. “I got it.”
“Oh, thank you dear Lord!” Nora plopped down beside him. “I feared we were too late.”
Jack handed the evidence that would convict O’Brien to her and stood, helping her up. He slid his Colt from the holster. As they stepped from the little house, three men emerged from a stand of scrub oak, guns drawn.
Surprise shot through Jack.
Dutch. Their traitor.
He’d been sure Fargo was the one with a black heart. Not the jovial man everyone loved.
Dammit! Darius Guthrie was holding Jack’s and Nora’s horses. He must’ve circled around and got them. This was going to complicate things even more.
The third man in the group, a well-dressed older man somewhere in his early fifties, gave them a cold smile. Had to be O’Brien. He stroked his nicely trimmed reddish mustache and goatee that matched his hair, and when he spoke it was with an Irish brogue. “Drop your weapons.”
“Looks like we hold all the cards!” Guthrie yelled. “Do as he says.”
“Having you all together will make it easier to kill you.” Jack’s gaze narrowed on their traitor. “You’ve finally shown your true color, Dutch—yellow. You’d betray your own mother.”
“Dying your hair didn’t change anything.” Dutch shrugged. “A shame you won’t be alive to warn your friends they’re next. I’ll destroy that town from within and have myself a nice payday in the bargain.”
Red-hot anger washed over Jack. “Anything for money, right?”
“I’ll be a rich man before I’m through with Hope’s Crossing.”
If he lived long enough. Jack meant to make sure he didn’t.
The horses stamped their feet and their eyes rolled back to show the whites as they strained against the reins.
What else was out there? Who? Had they brought more men?
“He came over to the right side!” Guthrie hollered.
“Enough money can buy anyone, I suppose,” Jack answered evenly. “But does it buy loyalty and trust? Will he die for you?”
Where in the hell was Ridge?
Nora pressed closer to Jack while he measured the distance. Too far to lunge. He searched the brush but didn’t see help coming.
“Enough.” O’Brien stepped out in front, holding a gun. “I’ll shoot Nora first. You can watch her die.”
“Ahhh, I assume you’re Flynn O’Brien. We meet at last.” If Jack could get off a single shot, he’d rid the world of the slimy bastard and his brand of terror.
“Throw your pistol over here.” The door to the house banged, sounding like a rifle blast. O’Brien jumped.
“Over there or over here?” Jack played dumb and laid his pistol at his feet, within reach.
“Damn you! I told you to throw it over here.” A mottled red colored O’Brien’s face. “Are you stupid or plain deaf?”
“I can pick it up and bring it to you,” Jack offered helpfully. A bullet made a larger hole up close. He’d make sure to get one into the traitorous Dutch.
The wind picked up, swirling around and around, creating a dirt devil between them.
For a moment, Jack couldn’t see. He could only feel Nora gripping his arm.
“Leave it and stay where you are,” O’Brien barked.
Jack shrugged. “Whatever you say.”
O’Brien ignored him, focusing on Nora. “You’ve caused me a lot of trouble, you little tramp. I demand that book you stole from me.”
“No.” Nora glared at him. “I don’t care about your demands. You don’t scare me.”
Darius Guthrie edged closer, crowing, “I told you he’d come. Now, you’re gonna get what’s coming to you.”
“It’ll take bigger men than you,” Jack drawled. Ridge was still absent from the powwow. Jack needed him to tip the odds.
“Shut up!” O’Brien clicked his tongue. “After all I’ve done for you, Nora. Took you off the street, clothed you, gave you a bed. And this is the way you repay me. For two cents, I’d put a bullet in your head, but give me the book and I’ll go on my way instead. I’ll forget you bit the hand that fed you.”
“How generous.” Nora’s laugh was forced and Jack could feel her shaking, but she wasn’t cowering and he admired her courage. “I’ll see you in prison for your crimes, and that’s a promise.”
A flock of crows swooped down, landing on the brush, raising a loud ruckus. Everyone’s eyes were fixated on the squawking birds.
Suddenly, Ridge stole up behind the three men, his gun drawn. He pressed it to the back of O’Brien’s head. “Holding all the cards, are you? I’ll see your hand and raise you. Toss your weapons. Now!”
The wind died, and nothing moved as clouds drifted over them. The loud flock of crows hushed. The horses became silent and still. Even the tall grass ceased to sway. It seemed as if everything was waiting.
Jack watched. He, too, waited to put a bullet in the three men.
One second passed.
Two.
Finally, O’Brien threw his weapon down, then the other two men at his side followed suit.
Jack picked up his Colt and started toward them, telling Nora to stay put. First, he needed a rope from his horse to hog-tie O’Brien with, then he’d take care of the other two. He’d be damned if they’d ever threaten or hurt Nora again.
But three strides later, he stopped in his tracks, listening.
A rumble of noise grew, rising up from the thick brush. Two dogs sprang from out of nowhere, barking, howling, growling, running for the men Ridge held at gunpoint.
Guthrie’s eyes grew wide. He dropped the reins of the horses and began running.
All hell broke loose. The horses reared and bucked, whinnying loudly.
Nora screamed.
Dust swirled around their feet like a cyclone.
The dogs wouldn’t stop snarling, running, barking loud enough to make a man deaf.
A flurry of shots went off amidst the rising dirt cloud—from whose gun?
The noise of the chaos made it hard for Jack to think. Gus Franklin exploded into his thoughts. He’d let the man live only to bury his new victims. He couldn’t let Dutch walk away or the man would murder the future of Hope’s Crossing and the dreams of everyone in it.
Calm swept over him. He barely breathed and placed Dutch in his sights. Saying a prayer, he aimed through the thick haze. He squeezed the trigger, hitting Dutch dead center. The huge man pitched over into a bed of cactus and didn’t mov
e.
Jack quickly swung his pistol at Flynn O’Brien, tracking the running target. Just as he fired, the man fell to the ground. Dammit! He couldn’t see anything through the dust or hear over the chaos.
Where had the dastardly mob boss gone?
When the dust settled, O’Brien and Guthrie had vanished—along with the horses and Ridge.
Thirty-two
Shaking, Nora ducked back into the sheepherder’s house, clutching the book to her chest.
Over a thousand miles had separated her from O’Brien. She thought she’d had time. Yet here he was, already in Texas.
She stood trembling in the shadow of the doorway. What now?
Jack ran to her, pulled her close. “You still have the book and we’re going to get the bastards.”
The two dogs bounded up, tongues lolling out. “Jack, aren’t these Bullet and Scout?”
“Hell! Sure seems so. I’d recognize Bullet anywhere.” Scout nuzzled Jack’s hand with her large nose. He looked for a notch out of one ear and found it. “Yep. This is Scout.”
“How on earth did they follow us?”
“Tracked us.”
“But why didn’t they catch up to us last night when we camped?”
“I’m sure Sawyer kept Scout in the house for a good while. She and Bullet probably started following us once Sawyer let her out to do her business. That’s all that can explain it.”
Questions swirled in Nora’s head until she felt like she was caught in a whirlwind. “What happened to Ridge and our horses?”
“Hopefully, the horses are close and Ridge isn’t shot. We’ll have to find them.”
Nora leaned into Jack, laying her head on his chest. “And then?”
She still shook at coming face-to-face with the man she feared more than death. The desire to run came on strong. Run to her safe little house in Hope’s Crossing and hide there. But then everything in her froze. That would not only put Sawyer and Willow in danger but everyone else who lived there. Flynn O’Brien was capable of destroying the whole town, including the children, and she knew it.
“What are we going to do, Jack?”
“I’ll find Ridge and those horses, and we’ll ride like the devil is on our tails. Let me have that book. I’ll keep it safe.”
“Okay.”
He put it inside his shirt, then took her hand. “Let’s go. We’ve got to get out of here. Try to keep behind me and don’t make a sound.”
She saw no sign of anyone when they emerged into the sunlight. The silence was eerie and whispered inside her head like a thousand hissing snakes. She glanced around, half expecting Flynn to leap out any second, kill Jack, and take her.
Colt in hand, Jack moved quickly into the low scrub brush. She kept a palm glued to his back. Scout and Bullet had disappeared again.
Once or twice Jack stopped and raised his hand. After a short pause, he went on. The sun crept higher and still they saw no sign of anyone.
A gunshot sounded ahead of them. Nora jerked but said nothing. The muscles in Jack’s back tensed, but he kept moving silently forward.
Was Ridge alive or dead? She feared the verdict.
The brush snapped in front of them. Jack pulled Nora behind the leafy branches of a large cedar.
A second later, the dogs bounded from the brush, followed by Ridge leading his big bay horse.
Relief swept over Nora. “I’m glad you’re all right. Who fired the shots?”
“I did.” Ridge removed his hat and wiped sweat trickling down his face. “I saw Jack end Dutch’s short, traitorous career. I lost the others in a gully. Not sure where they could’ve gone. The bastards were like ghosts.”
“We’ll find them. The horses?” Jack kept his sharp gaze moving, still looking for trouble. “We need to beat O’Brien to them and get the hell out of here.”
“Your dun headed for the creek behind the house. The others scattered,” Ridge answered.
Jack let out a low oath. “With luck they won’t be far, but if O’Brien finds them first, he’ll leave us afoot.”
Nora sucked in a breath. To be on foot with Flynn on the loose awakened full-fledged, terrifying panic in her breast.
“I agree. You check at the creek and I’ll ride down the trail.” Ridge swung up and trotted off.
Nora stayed at Jack’s side, keeping her eyes peeled for her former benefactor, praying he’d fallen into a dark pit with no way out. But slippery as he was, he’d always find some way to escape. Maybe he’d have a harder time with men like Jack and Ridge, who would refuse to roll over like trained dogs.
Neither spoke while retracing their footsteps. There wasn’t much of anything to say though. Nora used the quiet time to pray that Jack’s horse would be at the creek. Then they could leave, even if Nora had to leave her mare and ride double with Jack. She just had to put some miles between her and Flynn.
Jack’s horse was there at the water, although it skittered away at first when he tried to grab the reins. He got the dun horse on the next try and held the animal firm. “I’ll help you up, Nora, and we’ll try to find your mare.”
Ridge, Colt still in hand, trotted up, leading the mare, with Scout loping along beside him. “Found her. Ready to ride?”
“More than ready.” Nora shivered. “We have what we came for.”
“Wait.” Jack handed Nora her precious book. “Put this in your saddlebag. It think it’ll be safer there for now.”
She nodded and put it inside the large leather pouch, then mounted up, and they trotted away.
Nora turned for one last glance at the sad little house where they’d found Willow. It was already returning to the earth from which it came. If they didn’t make it back home and Flynn O’Brien somehow won, at least the baby girl was safe and cared for.
Nerves made her hands shake so much she could barely hold the reins. Coming face-to-face with Flynn again had awakened her worst nightmares.
* * *
They set a brisk pace for about an hour, then dropped to a walk. At times Scout and Bullet hung back, then caught up. The red hound acted a little odd—skittish and watchful, not the fun-loving dog they knew. Jack kept an eye on her and mentioned his observations to Nora and Ridge.
Nora swiveled in the saddle. “Do you think she senses someone following?”
“Who the hell knows?” Ridge snorted. “Maybe she’s looking for more horses to scare.”
“Ridge! You’ll hurt her feelings,” Nora scolded.
Jack lifted a canteen from around his pommel and uncorked it. “I think one of us should drop back and see if someone’s behind us. I’ll do it, Ridge, if you’ll stay with Nora.”
“No, let me go,” Ridge insisted. Before Jack could answer, he turned around and rode off.
Scout didn’t follow. She stayed with him and Nora.
They rode quietly for a bit and Jack listened to the clop of the horse’s hooves. Friction crackled in the air like a current, and he kept his Colt ready to fire.
Best to be prepared. Trouble was coming.
“Jack, do you know Ridge’s story?”
Jack could barely hear Nora’s low voice, apparently mindful of how voices carried.
“Not much of it. Ridge has never liked to speak of the past.” Jack met her gaze. “Outlaws have two lives, divided by a before-and-after line. Most hold the before part sacred as a time untouched by violence, before they turned to criminal ways.”
She tilted her head and smiled, and his heart flipped over. “I’m glad you told me your story. I understand better now.”
“I held it in for too long. It was time to let it out, and a wife needs to know what makes the man she married tick.” They were a team, and the better they understood each other, the happier their home would be. Anyway, that was his opinion.
But what the hell did he know? He’d left his Ra
chel to face a bunch of killers by herself.
The bloodhound suddenly shot up an incline off the trail. What the hell? Jack stared into a deep ravine on the right side of the goat path.
Someone could’ve ridden along the floor of that ravine and be hiding down there.
The sun was high, midway in the sky. Rays caught on Nora’s hair. Jack shook his head to clear it. Sweat covered his palm. He needed to think straight. Just because someone could’ve ridden down the ravine didn’t mean they had.
A second later, a flurry of loud gunshots sounded behind them. Nora moved her mare closer to him. “Ridge is in trouble.”
“You can’t assume that. Those might have come from his gun.” Jack stared up the incline where Scout had gone. Every instinct became raw and heightened. He sniffed the slight breeze and smelled the faint odor of spent gunpowder. The shots were close.
“Get off your horse, Nora. Now!”
She silently obeyed and huddled next to her mare.
Bullets peppered the ground around them. Jack swiveled in the saddle to return fire.
A horse galloped straight for them.
A prairie dog darted under Jack’s horse. The dun reared up in panic. Caught mid-dismount, Jack was thrown from the saddle and hurtled down into the steep ravine.
Thirty-three
“Jack!” Nora screamed and ran to the side of the ravine. He lay unmoving at the bottom that had to be at least fifteen feet below her.
Was he alive? Her heartbeat roared in her ears as she looked for a way down to him.
The sound of racing hooves alerted her, and she whirled to find Flynn O’Brien astride his horse. There was no sign of Guthrie. Flynn dismounted, a gloating smile on his face, gripping a burlap sack that he untied from his saddle horn. The hisses and rattles coming from the sack turned her to ice. She couldn’t take her gaze from it.
Everything she’d tried to forget tumbled back.
The dark room.
The sack of snakes, rattling and hissing only inches away.
Frantic pleas to spare her life. The cold floor where she huddled in fear.
Nora’s heart pounded so hard she thought it was coming out of her chest. Her tongue worked in a dry mouth. Heaven help her. Arms held straight out, she backed up until blocked by her mare. The animal’s muscles quivered.
